The last 48 hours have been mildly out of whack.
It started when I got home from work on Monday night and started puking my guts out. And then some. And then some more. About 18 hours later, I hadn't kept down any water, let alone food, and called my doctor. Food poisoning? Stomach bug? Didn't matter, the on call doctor told me to head straight to L&D.
"Isn't this a bit extreme?" I thought out loud.
Not so. A urine test showed some pretty wicked dehyrdation. Two bags of IV fluids later with a drip of zofran for good measure, and I felt better than I could have ever imagined.
You guys, I lost 4 pounds!
Yes, it seemed a tad extreme to head to a hospital for a run of the mill bout of gastroenteritis. And yes, I was completely panicked while waiting for the nurse to find the baby's heartbeat. And yes, I had to answer a million questions about my "special" history when I was examined by a midwife in the unit. But here's the deal: when they offer the IV fluids, they are offering a weakling a dose of AWESOME.
The next day, feeling slightly like a new person - oh, about ten hours of sleep also did wonders - I had to head into DC for some meetings, that included toxic boss.
So, I'll cut to the chase. I had to tell her. Here's how it went:
We were in this one meeting together where she had me present some info. She was beaming as usual, when I was done, because I am something of the in-house "think tank" for my organization. They like to trot me out to meetings to show off all the smarty-pants things I am paid to think about.
I don't drive in Washington, I like to use commuter trains and the metro to get there and around. The meeting location was far far far from public transportation, I had actually cabbed from an earlier meeting in another part of the city to get there. Boss offered me a ride back to my car at the train station about 90 minutes away, and I was definitely taking it.
I should state at the outset, we actually get along. She loves me, I am probably the only person on the plant more sarcastic than her. I have just been trying to avoid her like the plague.
Well, here's the thing about her offer of a ride, it came with strings:
"So, you know I have to smoke."
"Oh, wow, that really won't be possible."
"You know this, you've ridden with me before, I can't handle the long ride through this traffic without a smoke."
"Wow. Ok, so you're making me divulge this about three weeks earlier than I planned, but here goes. You can't smoke in front of me. I'm 17 weeks pregnant."
to be contined